There’s something extraordinary about a Christmas Card in June:
Thrilling, evocative, poignantly pointed.
I was shifting boxes from one room to store
The work complete, the sun shone
And cast hard shadows around the floor.
I shone with the heat, the effort
Of the weight of books, so many books.
Then from the corner, a red corner,
I reached to pluck it from the carpet,
Under the bookshelf like a refugee
I opened the dusty, crisp envelope
Feeling guilt for the name was mine
Inside “have a lovely holiday, thanks for your lessons,
Love Alice x x”.
Over the hills the heather glowed in June
And this Christmas wish, lost for three years
Sent deep silences
Of what was lost and what is yet to come.
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